Blood of Empire

Chapter 53

Vlora was roused from a restless sleep by the light of a lamp and the gentle shaking of her shoulder. She rolled over and squinted into Buden’s face. He took many of the night shifts as her bodyguard because it kept him from having to relay orders and cross paths with every aid and messenger in the army. Even after a decade, she couldn’t tell if he preferred solitude on account of his half-missing tongue or because of shame over his noble Kez parentage.

“Buden?” She tried blinking the sleep from her head. “What is it?”

“Visor,” he muttered, the word barely understandable.

“Who?”

“E… E…” Buden scowled at her. “’Yni eneral.”

“Etepali?”

A nod.

“Pit and damnation.” Vlora rolled to her other side and fished her pocket watch out of her discarded jacket, then held it up to Buden’s lamp. It was a little past two in the morning. “What the pit is going on?”

He shook his head.

“Light the lamps and give me a few minutes to dress, then send her in.”

Buden did as instructed, leaving Vlora alone to try and summon some sort of clarity of thought from her sleep-addled brain. She sat on the edge of her cot, staring at her bare legs, wondering what the pit Etepali could possibly want to meet with her about at two o’clock in the morning. Was this another trick from the old general? A test of Vlora’s character? The beginning of a ruse? The latter concerned her the most and was what finally got her moving. She made a mental checklist of everything she’d need to do the moment Etepali left – recheck the pickets, send scouts to scour their flanks, wake the general staff.

She was still running through that mental checklist as she buttoned up her jacket when there was a knock on the main post of her tent and the tent flap was thrown open. The wiry old Dynize general ducked inside, followed by Buden’s scowl. Vlora gave Buden a small nod and he withdrew.

Vlora limped across the tent and cleaned off a chair – the same that Delia had sat in yesterday afternoon – and offered it to Etepali. She, in turn, remained standing by the tent flap with her hat in hand. She wasn’t dressed in her uniform, but rather a loose-fitting shirt and trousers, the style of which Vlora had seen on a few of the Dynize prisoners they’d taken unaware. Civilian clothing.

“General,” she said cautiously.

Etepali gave her a tight smile, her eyes never leaving Vlora’s face. “Lady Flint. Thank you for receiving me at such an hour.”

Vlora found her own chair and sat. Something was wrong here, but she still wasn’t awake enough to figure out what. “Are you alone?” She looked around urgently to make sure her battle plans were covered, only to remember she’d transferred most of them to the general-staff tent just before bed.

“I am.”

“I see. What can I do for you, General? Drink?”

“No, thank you.” Etepali pursed her lips and stared at her hands for a few moments before finally returning her gaze to Vlora’s. “I wanted to tell you something that I did not the other day.”

Vlora remained silent, gesturing for her to continue.

“You asked about the missing Palo and the dead Kressians.”

“I did.”

“Yes, well. I was not honest before. I do know exactly what you’re talking about.”

Vlora was fully awake now. She leaned forward with bated breath, wondering if she should send for Bo and Sabastenien.

Etepali continued, “The order came not long after landing. My own army, we landed off the coast about twenty miles north of Landfall, about three days after what I understand your soldiers call the Battle of Windy River. Our orders were to secure our landing position and work our way up the coast, controlling every port – a task that we have been about ever since. But we also received a secondary order, one directly from Ka-Sedial. Anytime we came across a small, isolated town, we were to strip the town of resources, slaughter the Kressian inhabitants, and gather the Palo to be sent to Landfall.”

“Only the towns?”

“Only the towns,” Etepali confirmed. “The orders were very specific about making sure that they were isolated. I was given the understanding that Sedial didn’t want any witnesses left behind.”

Vlora regarded the old woman warily. “Do you have any idea why?”

“Why for the action, or why for the witnesses?”

“Both. Either.”

Etepali gave a tired sigh. “Sedial does not like to tell us his why for anything. As you Adrans like to say, he keeps his cards close to his chest. I have a few guesses. One of our propaganda points for the invasion was that we were freeing the Palo – gathering our cousins back into the bosom of the empire. While we have vast resources, there is only so much we can ship over here, so Sedial is gathering labor and conscripts.”

As Bo had suspected. Vlora nodded.

“As for the murder of the Kressians – I think that Sedial is making room for our own immigrants. He promised land to tens of thousands of families that fought for him during our civil war. Clearing Kressians from the isolated farmsteads and villages makes room for our own people, and eliminates any witnesses that might report such an action to the Nine.”

“To keep us from getting involved?”

“I suspect, yes.”

“We’d find out eventually.”

“Perhaps. But years from now, after we’ve fully cemented our place on the continent. No one cares about atrocities decades after the fact, when trade is good and the rich are getting richer.” Etepali passed a hand over her eyes. “But this is speculation on my part. I don’t know Sedial’s mind. No one does but his closest lieutenants.” She paused. “Regardless of the reasons, I ignored this order. I don’t slaughter civilians. I didn’t during our civil war and I won’t now. I think the whole idea is bloodthirsty madness. Sedial has many faults, the foremost of which is that he believes he can control everything, that he can shape the world in his image.”

“Hence the godstones.”

Etepali made a sour face as if Vlora had cut to the quick of it. “Perhaps,” she said evasively.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Also,” Etepali said, holding up a finger, “I noticed that you’re collecting keelboats. Well, if you haven’t found them already, there should be well over a hundred stored up a tributary to the Hadshaw just seven miles to our north.”

Seven miles. Just outside of Vlora’s current scouting range. This felt like a trick to her, and she instinctively pulled back from the conversation, trying to see where Etepali was leading her with all of this. A hundred keelboats would give her a great deal more options than she had before – allowing her to move almost her entire army up and down and across the river at will. It made the river a highway for her and an obstacle for the Dynize. Another edge in the upcoming battle.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked again, putting steel into her voice. If something was going on here, she needed to get to the bottom of it. “You’re not turning on your allies because of some murdered civilians.”

“I never said I was turning on my allies,” Etepali replied harshly. She seemed to check herself, pulling back her temper with a scowl. Vlora realized this was the first time she’d seen her lose her composure. Etepali shook her head. “Do you remember me mentioning my cousin?”

“Vaguely.”

“I have a cousin named Yaret. He is a Household head – a minister with the government in Fatrasta. Much younger than me, almost like a son in a lot of ways. Clever, thoughtful man. One of my favorite people in the world.” Etepali’s face had taken on a hard, distant look. “A few hours ago, I received word of an attempted assassination.”

“Against this Yaret?”

She nodded. “Many of Yaret’s Household were killed defending him.”

“Who ordered the assassination?” Vlora asked. “Lindet? Why would she want to kill a random –?”

“The assassins were Dynize,” Etepali cut her off.

Vlora sank back into her own chair, a thousand implications scrambling through her head at once. The veneer of distrust she held for Etepali was marred and she found herself genuinely curious.

“Like myself,” Etepali continued before Vlora could ask any questions, “Yaret fought on the other side of the civil war. We were Sedial’s enemies, and though we put aside our differences, we’ve still opposed him in smaller ways politically.”

“You think Sedial ordered the murder?”

“I know Sedial ordered the murder. The message I received included a special note, written in invisible ink in Yaret’s own hand, that he has evidence that Sedial is about to begin a purge of his domestic allies.” Etepali was angry now, though she was hiding it well. Her nostrils flared, a sweat breaking out on her forehead. If this was an act, it was a very good one. “I have believed for years that there would come a day when Sedial no longer found us – his former enemies – useful. That one day he would turn on us.”

“And this is the day?”

“It is. I always thought that he would rid himself of his enemies after using the godstone. Not before.”

“Have you prepared for this in any way?”

Etepali snorted. “They’re suspicions, nothing more. I have no hard proof. Besides, I’m not a politician. All I could do was gather loyal soldiers. My army consists entirely of allied Household members – much as Field Marshal Tamas consolidated his most loyal troops in Adopest before his coup. Now I worry that I have brought all of Sedial’s enemies together in a single spot to make them easier to deal with.”

Vlora frowned, not entirely sure she understood the implication. It took a few moments for realization to dawn. “You think that the other two armies here are going to turn on you?”

“I believe they have orders to that effect, yes. Both generals are from Sedial’s inner circle. They have positioned me between their armies instead of to one side, which I find odd. Further, we have no instructions to actually attack.”

That healthy doubt returned to Vlora’s breast. Hadn’t Delia just told her that she expected an imminent attack? “Then what are you to do?”

“Keep you hemmed in until further orders. An odd thing to do when we outnumber you, isn’t it?” Etepali pressed her lips into a firm line. “I suspect that, when the orders to attack do come, I will be pressed to attack first and take the worst casualties. After the battle, the other two armies will turn on me. At least, that’s what I would do.”

Vlora scoffed in disbelief, trying to wrap her head around all of this. She would have to try and confirm it, of course. But the possibility of inner turmoil among the Dynize could mean a change to everything! She could sit back and watch as the Dynize turned on one another, waiting to pounce at the opportune moment. Her feeling of elation grew and grew until another realization popped it like a lance through a boil.

“Does Sedial act in desperation?” she asked quietly.

“Why would he? He controls the entire southeast corner of Fatrasta. Lindet presses him fiercely, but there is no reason to believe she can win. He controls two of the godstones. His influence dictates the direction of both the Dynize government and her armies.”

“And he’s cunning?”

“Very. I don’t use the world lightly.”

If all of this was true, and Sedial was about to act against his enemies… it meant he was in position. He had two godstones, which meant that Styke had failed. Perhaps he only needed those two godstones for his plan to work? She shook off the uncertainty. That didn’t matter, not right now. What mattered was that Sedial was confident enough in his position to act against his internal enemies. Time was running out.

“What will you do?” Vlora asked.

“The message I received from Yaret is four days old,” Etepali replied carefully. “For all I know, Sedial has already finished the job. I will have to wait until I get further word. Not enough has happened for me to act directly.”

“So you’ve come here to tell me what you can?”

“Yes. I’m in a precarious position. As I said, I have no proof of Sedial’s intentions beyond Yaret’s communiqué. Yet I may at any moment find myself at the end of an ally’s sword.” Etepali’s face hardened, her fingers drawing into fists. “I am still a good Dynize citizen. But my loyalty to the Great Ka, such as it was, ends with the attempt on my cousin’s life.” Etepali stood suddenly, shaking her head as if coming out of a dream. “There is another thing.”

Vlora watched Etepali carefully. “Yes?” she urged.

“Your politician, the Lady Snowbound.”

“What about her?” Vlora felt her eyes narrow involuntarily.

“She has cut some kind of a deal. I don’t know what it is, but she’s been sneaking a stream of messengers in and out of the camps of my fellow generals. I’ve already been instructed that if fighting begins, I am to avoid her provosts.”

Vlora grit her teeth, trying to decide if she could trust the old woman. There was a lot of information here – juicy, inflammatory bits that could change all of Vlora’s plans.

“They are watching me, and I shouldn’t be gone so long,” Etepali said suddenly. She gave Vlora a piercing glance and, in a quick rush as if to get it all out before she could think better of it, she said, “The last I heard, Landfall was protected by seventy thousand soldiers. Roughly two-thirds of those are conscripts from Dynize and the Palo, and would fall beneath a stiff breeze. The rest are Sedial’s best soldiers. The fortress is well protected by sorcery and gun emplacements.” Her mouth snapped shut.

Vlora stood as well. Her breath was short now, her mind filled with possibilities and anxieties. “You know that I cannot trust you at your word.”

Etepali gave a tired sigh. “I’m aware. We are still enemies, you and I, and our mutual trickery has marred the possibility of true cooperation. But I’m giving you this information in good faith. How you act upon it is up to you. I will give you one last assurance: If I am ordered to attack, I will delay doing so for as long as possible.”

“That is… generous.”

Etepali put on her hat and gave Vlora a small bow before sweeping out of the tent without another word. The moment she was gone, Vlora began to pace, her mind on fire. After several minutes of consideration, she went to the flap of the tent and told Buden to summon a messenger.

Once the lad arrived, Vlora barked off a storm of orders. “Double – no, triple – the number of our scouts. The next few days I want to know everything about the Dynize. Their positioning, their maneuvers, the number of men on their front lines. If they so much as twitch in our direction or toward our flanks, I want to be informed immediately. Also, send an expedition up the river. There should be a tributary about seven miles to the north. I want them to find any keelboats up there and bring them down. Wake up Sabastenien. I want the expedition to come from his best troops, and I want them gone within the hour.”

The messenger left at a sprint, and Vlora fell back into her chair to stew on all of this. Of everything she had been told, one piece of information kept floating to the forefront of her thoughts: Delia had betrayed her. If true, it would not come as a surprise. But how? What kind of a deal could she have cut with Ka-Sedial in such a short amount of time?

Her body wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and claim a few more hours of sleep, but her mind, she knew, wouldn’t allow it. Grabbing a lantern and lighting it, she headed out and across to the general-staff tent to review her battle plans.

She had work to do.